Master of his heart (Max and Brielle) novel Chapter 518

Chapter 518 

Two hours had passed since the incident, and the hospital corridor outside was swarming with the Rowlands. If Max hadn’t been holding the fort in that hospital room, Brielle would have undoubtedly been drowned in a sea of vitriol from every last one of them. 

Max sat down, picked up a cotton swab, dipped it in water, and gently moistened Brielle’s lips. “Brielle isn’t the type to go looking for trouble,” he said with a casual detachment. 

Jaired raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to Brielle lying on the bed. He still couldn’t figure it out–was Max genuinely devoted to Brielle? Feelings were fickle, after all. How long would Max’s affection last? 

He looked down, unable to resist lighting up a cigarette between his fingers, only to be chided, “Take that outside. We’re in a hospital.” 

Jaired’s face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly stood up. “Alright, alright, I won’t smoke around your princess.” 

With long strides, he left the room. 

The atmosphere in the corridor was hushed, with the Rowlands standing or sitting in wait. They merely nodded upon seeing Jaired emerge. He pocketed his cigarette, tossed it into a trash can, and clapped Andrew on the shoulder. “She’ll pull through,” he assured him. 

No sooner had he spoken than the door to Brielle’s room swung open, and Max stepped out. Upon seeing him, Andrew stiffened, his anger palpable as he grabbed Max by the collar. It was the first time their friendship had reached such a tense point in years. “If anything happens, I won’t let Brielle off the hook.” 

Max’s collar wrinkled under Andrew’s grip. He looked up, meeting Andrew’s bloodshot eyes just before being shoved against the wall. “Max, I can’t believe you’d throw away years of brotherhood for a girl,” Andrew spat out. 

Jaired was startled and quickly stepped between them. “Hey, hey, let’s talk this out. Tessa will be fine, Brielle too. We’re all brothers. There’s no need for this.” 

“He’s not my brother!” Andrew seethed, barely able to control his breathing. “I’m seen as nothing but your lackey! A lapdog! Do I look like I need that? If I didn’t consider you my brother. why would I put up with it? They’re right about you, Max. You’re an untouchable saint. If that’s the case, then stay in your ivory tower! I’m sick of being your shadow!” 

Jaired’s expression darkened, his hand resting on Andrew’s clenched fist. “Andrew, you’re heated. Cool It,” he urged. 

Andrew’s eyes instantly reddened, and seeing Max’s silent stoicism only fueled his rage. 

Damn it! 

In a swift motion, he threw a punch. It wasn’t a heavy blow, holding back the force that years of 

friendship warranted. Max could have easily dodged but chose not to, and the punch landed 

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Chacher $18 

squarely on his cheek, leaving a bruised mark on his skin. 

The other Rowlands stood up in shock, but with the sons of the Dorsey and Clements families at odds, no one dared intervene–they all turned to Jaired in a silent plea for peace. 

Jaired was also taken aback by Andrew’s gesture, especially seeing Max with a bruised face–a rare sight. The nonchalant expression disappeared from his eyes, and the curve of his lips. gradually faded. This was trouble. 

Max continued to gaze at Andrew, calmly asking, “Have you calmed down?” 

Andrew’s hand, gripping Max’s collar, began to tremble. Why wasn’t he avoiding it?